The Broken Road (3 page)

“I bet.” I heard a thump followed by a cry came in the background. Jen cursed under her breath. “That was Lauren. I’ll see you tonight.”

I laughed as I pressed the END button. Lauren is the most daredevil child I had ever met. There was not a couch or playground set that she couldn’t conquer.

I pulled into the office parking lot with a minute to spare. My Uncle Bob hired me on as an office manager right after I moved back to the area. While I suspect the offer was out of familial obligations, I’d like to think that my degree in business management made it happen. I walked into the outdated industrial office building, which totally contrasts to the firm’s modern office suite. I stowed my bags underneath the desk, hung up my coat, and started checking the voice-mail messages when Paul Jenkins, a junior partner, came up to my desk.

“Good morning, Megan. I see you managed to find your alarm clock.” He said snidely. Paul demanded the respect of a senior partner, even though he was only a junior. He was on a very high horse and on more than one occasion, I had to knock him off of it a few times.

“Yes, Paul. I was able to get out on time this morning, just like every other morning this week. Is there something I can help you with?” I didn’t want to help him as much as I wanted to flick a rubber band directly between his beady rat eyes. But I refrained, though begrudgingly.

“I need the Anderson file. Do you have it?” Paul demanded. His god-awful toupee slid slightly to the right of his dome-shaped head.

I checked the file log-out sheet. “I spoke to you and the other partners about this on Wednesday. We need to make sure that every file is signed in and out. According to this sheet, you signed it out on Monday. I suggest you speak with Miranda, your paralegal, about this,” I always feel like I have to speak to Paul the same way I speak to Lauren. Slowly, deliberately, and avoiding big words.

Apparently Paul didn’t like that suggestion as he turned up his large nose and walked off in a huff. He always treats me like his personal secretary and is a sexist pigheaded jerk to boot. It is a golden rule that the front desk personnel should be treated with the utmost respect. We have the ultimate control in the office. We decide if we make regular or decaf coffee in the morning. Or if that new pain-in-the-ass client is settled in your office to your surprise or if you’ll just call them back later. If you piss us off enough, when we make your travel arrangements, we’ll put your butt in the economy section with a middle seat next to the bathroom. We are the foundation of any firm and have the power to make or break your day. I dialed Miranda’s internal number. It was only fair to give her a heads up that Mr. Stick-up-my-butt Paul was on his way to her office.

“This is Miranda,” her African accent trilled. Miranda Reinhardt was from South Africa and I just adored her. She’s a beautiful, talented paralegal; we became fast friends when she joined the firm last year.

“Hey Mir. Just a warning. Paul is on the war path. He’s on his way back to your office,” I hurriedly whispered, watching Paul as he stomped down the hall.

“Lovely. Thanks for the warning.” She quickly hung up and I could hear him down the hall loudly demanding the file. I sighed and logged onto my computer. The morning went by quickly. When lunch time rolled around, I was starving. I took my meager lunch and walked into the break room, just in time to see Uncle Bob sneaking some chips out of the vending machine.

“Ahem,” I said with a smile. “You know, if Aunt Karen knew that you’re eating chips, she’d be highly upset.”

Bob laughed, his big belly jiggling like Santa Claus. “Your Aunt Karen won’t find out. This diet has me going crazy. Did you know she packed me a grapefruit and turkey sandwich today? That’s all! How am I supposed to survive on that?”

I joined him at the table. “Aunt Karen doesn't want you to go through what Dad went through.”

Uncle Bob grumbled. “Yeah, well. I'll die of starvation before that happens.”

I laughed, handing him half my bagel. He gratefully took it.

“So, how are your mom and Kyle doing?" He asked, smearing cream cheese on his bagel.  He closed his eyes in happiness after the first bite of carbohydrates.

“They are doing well. Kyle loves his job. He’s transferred to the station in Edgewater. Mom is happy that he’ll be close to home and he’s happy that he can mooch off her for dinner.”

Bob nodded. “It’s great to see Kyle come around. He was a bit of a hellion after your father died.”

My younger brother was only eighteen when my father died. He took it extremely hard. Kyle rebelled and acted like he was invincible.  Mom pleaded and begged him to straighten himself out, but it took being arrested for vandalism and destruction of property for him to change his ways. Thanks to Uncle Bob, he was sentenced to community service and avoided time behind bars. Now Kyle is with the Anne Arundel County Police Department and doing a lot better.

“Good, Bob, I’m glad to see you’re still here,” Paul called as he walked into the room.

“Afternoon Paul. What can I help you with?” asked Bob wearily. Paul had an affinity for being obnoxious, a trait not lost on Bob.

“Megan, I need to speak with Bob alone.” Paul insisted arrogantly. I rolled my eyes and kissed my uncle on the cheek. I left the room, but not before giving Paul an evil glare. If it’s so important, he should to take it to the office. Bits of the conversation wafted up the hall.

“It’s a high profile case, Bob. We should talk about assisting the district attorney on this one. Think of all the potential clients,” Paul insisted.

“This is a federal case, Paul. My hands are tied. Besides, there could be a conflict of interest.…” Bob's voice trailed off and I couldn’t hear what he said next.

That's interesting.
Uncle Bob is normally all about the high-profile cases, so why is he hedging about this particular one? I brushed the thought out of my mind. It’s not my concern, I told myself. Before I knew it, it was five o’clock. I had just logged off the computer when my phone rang.

“Connors, Piper, and Dobbins. This is Megan. How can I assist you?”

“Hey Megs.”  I practically melted at the sound of his voice.
God, get a grip. I should not be acting this way.

“Hey Shane. What's going on?”

“Are you going to the pub tonight?” he asked. I could hear traffic in the background, so I figured he was on his bike.

“Yeah, I’m meeting Jen around eight. Are you gracing us with your presence?” I teased.

Shane laughed. “Yeah, I think Allison and I might join you. Is that cool with you?” I silently groaned.
Seriously? Yes, I mind, you fool.
But I didn't tell him that.

“No, that’s cool. We’ll get a booth,” I replied, hoping he didn't notice the sarcasm in my voice.

“Okay, good. I'll see you at Artie’s,” And with that, he hung up.

I sighed. Really? Did he have to bring Allison with him? I sucked it up, because I knew that if I wanted to hang out with him, she’d tag along.

Shane’s truck was parked on the street when I got home.  I brought my bags inside and was greeted by an eager Penny.  I went upstairs to trade my dress clothes for a pair of sweats and track shoes and clipped a leash to her collar.

“Come on Pen, let’s go,”   We took off down the street and made it a good mile and a half before turning around. By then, my cheeks were freezing and my nose was running. Once I turned the corner, I noticed a green Expedition pull up to the house. Oddly enough, it stopped in the middle of the road, then drove away.
Weird.
I slowed down to a walk and watched the taillights fade.
I wonder what that was all about.

I deactivated the alarm in the house with a push of a button on my key ring and let Penny in. I quickly turned the alarm back on and locked the doors. I didn’t know who they were, but I didn’t want advertise that I was home. My parent’s rules on home safety echoed in my head:  Always lock your doors as soon as you’re inside. I fed Penny and ran upstairs to take a shower before I met everyone. It was six-thirty and I was running late.

Chapter 3

An hour and half later, I arrived at Artie’s Pub and Grill. The noise was deafening and the pub was full of familiar faces. The old neighborhood hang has always been the place to be on Friday nights. It took a while but I finally saw Jen through the crowd and made my way over to her table.

“Hey Girl,” Jen gave me a big hug. She is about six inches taller than me, with long curly hair and deep green eyes. Her white cowl-necked sweater and dark jeans set off her tan from last month’s Aruba trip nicely.

“Hi. It’s crazy in here,” I shouted; I could barely hear her above the din of the crowd.

“Yeah, its nuts. It’s too cold to do anything else. What better way to get rid of the wintertime blues than to come and drink?” Jen laughed.

I joined in. It felt so good to see her again. Even though we only live twenty minutes apart, life just keeps getting in the way.

“How are Matt and Lauren?” I mentioned for the waiter and asked for a beer.

Jen sipped her wine. “They’re great. Matt’s working the late shift tonight at the hospital and Lauren’s going through the terrible threes. How are you? How’s work going?”

I launched into a tirade about how Paul was treating everyone. I took a breath to sip my beer, and felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Feel like moving over?” said a low voice. I looked up to Shane and Allison standing next to me.

“Sure thing.”  I smiled weakly and shifted over next to Jen.

Shane sat down across from me. “Guess you couldn’t get a booth, huh?” He joked, putting an arm around Allison’s petite shoulder. It felt like I got punched in the heart. She’s beautiful, with long black hair, very small frame, and stunning blue eyes.  He’s hers, not mine, I mentally chastised myself. I hoped I wasn’t turning green with envy.

Jen gestured around. “Shoot. What do you think? I had to practically bribe someone   to get this table. You’re lucky you’re not sitting on the floor.”

We all laughed. Memories of old times came flooding back. The four of us - Jen, Matt, Shane, and I - used to come here once a week and would close down the bar. It was so easy back then. We didn’t have the stresses that we do now. Bills, mortgages, kids; they all didn’t exist.

But then times changed. I met Tommy three years ago, here at Artie’s  as a matter a fact. He just graduated from the FBI academy in Quantico and was helping the Annapolis police with a case. He came in for a break, and everything changed. We went out on a first date soon after and were inseparable from that point on. Not to say it wasn’t without its period of awkwardness. Tommy never belonged to our group; he just never clicked. Shane, Matt, and Jen were always nice to him, but Tommy had grown up differently from the rest of us. He grew up with money, a private school education, and a trust fund. The rest of the group had blue collar parents that struggled to send us to college.  The fact that he was the good side of the law didn’t give Shane warm and fuzzies either.

But most newcomers didn’t last long. Allison definitely doesn’t belong with our group. Jen, who is the go-getter and includes everyone, even admits that there is something off about her. Allison has never offered anything about herself except for the mention that she grew up in New Jersey. She didn’t give off the vibe that she cared to get to know us. While we sat chatting, Alison stayed quiet and kept looking around as if we were boring her. My big mouth opened to say something to that effect when she leaned into Shane and whispered something in his ear. Shane looked up and, I swear, a quick glance of nervousness crossed his face. It disappeared as quickly as it came, so I brushed it off as a figment of my imagination.

“Hey, we need to go talk to someone. We’ll be back later. Go ahead and order without us.” He grabbed Allison’s hand and disappeared into the crowd. I moved into her vacated seat.

“What the hell was that about?” A hint of annoyance came through in my voice. Jen gave me a sympathetic smile.

“You are still not over him, are you?” She asked gently. I hesitated, then frowned and shook my head. As my best friend, she knows me better than I know myself.

“I’m not. But I’m going to have to. That’s all there is to it,” I took a long drink of my beer. “Are we ordering food? Screw my resolution. I need something with grease.”

Jen handed me the menu. “You should get back out there. You need to meet someone.”

I ignored her and perused the menu, settling on a cheeseburger and fries. Artie makes the best burgers. “I know, I know. I don’t feel like it. Does that make sense?”

Jen smacked my menu. “No. It doesn’t. Look Megs, it’s been eight months. You’ve got to be in need of some company by now,” she said, scanning the room. “There – at the bar. See that guy with the navy blue polo? He’s looking this way. Why not go and talk to him?”

I glanced in the general direction of where she was talking. I didn’t want to be obvious, but the guy in the polo was pretty cute. Slim, tall, nicely dressed with beautiful Asian eyes, drinking a beer. I blushed when he looked at me and ducked my head.

“Jen, I’m not looking for a one-night stand. That is something I don’t need. I want something more substantial. Like what you and Matt have.”

Jen raised her eyebrow. “What? You want marriage and a baby? I think you’re missing a step. You need to meet a man first.”

I rolled my eyes. “No dingdong. I want the connection that you guys feel for each other. Remember when you first met Matt? You knew he was the one for you from the moment you first saw him.”

Jen sighed. “I know. I saw him in the elevator and it was instant. I had the goose bumps and butterflies. But sometimes it’s not like that. Sometimes you have to really get to know the person first. You can’t be scared to talk to someone just because you’re not one hundred percent sure of the connection. Sometimes it takes time to build up to that. And how do you know you don‘t have that spark unless you go and try to meet someone?”

     She was right and I hated it. Whenever we went out and guys would approach, I’d give off the not so subtle signal that I wasn’t interested. It’s not like the guys were rude or obnoxious, or ugly even. The connection just wasn’t there. I felt that instant attraction with both Shane and Tommy. Tommy’s compassion and dry humor drew me in. He is a genuine, wonderful man. If we didn‘t have his career issue, I‘d like to think that we might still be together. But at the same time, there’s Shane. Even though we were just friends all those years ago, we seemed to be always touching. Play fighting, tickling, back rub. All in the guise of friendship. But for me, there was more to it. When we were in the same room, a magnetic force pulled us together. I know why I’m not actively dating. I’m not cruising the bars, looking for guys. It will be very hard to top the feelings I had for Shane or Tommy.